


Remembrance

by RogueLioness



Series: Thedosian Tales [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, treating my Carver Hawke Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueLioness/pseuds/RogueLioness
Summary: I like Carver Hawke [not sure if it's an unpopular opinion or not?] I understand where he comes from, and why he feels the way he feels - it's notnice, of course, but anyone who has ever had a sibling knows that sibling relationships are tumultuous and full of friction. Despite their arguments, Carver does care a great deal for Hawke, that much is clear.I never know what the right path for him is - templar, or warden? - but in my headcanon, Carver is a templar. In his head, I'd imagine, it's a win-win situation - he gets to make a name for himself, while at the same time being in the heart of an organization that hunts down apostates like mage! Hawke. He can protect Hawke - which, really, is something hewantsto do.So, yeah. Have some Carver Hawke feels :)





	Remembrance

_ Carver, the Grey Warden _ \- He’s sitting in the large dining hall with the other wardens, shovelling food into his mouth - it feels as though he’s  _ always _ hungry these days, and he’s long given up etiquette in favor of more food - when a face with bright blue eyes flashes in front of his eyes; he remembers Hawke, those early days in Kirkwall when food and money were scarce, and the way she would claim she’d eaten when he and mother were about to dine; he never questioned it, never questioned the way her clothes would hang off her increasingly thinning frame, or the way her eyes were sunken into their sockets, because his eyes were blinded by the frustration he felt each time his ears heard her praise sung-

 

_ Carver, the Grey Warden _ \- he reads the letter at camp one day, a familiar hand - mother’s - and he’s not quite sure what to do about the contents; his mother has her estate back, it appears, thanks to Hawke; but all she’s written about is the dark cloud that surrounds his sibling, how their smile never seems to be whole anymore. She writes about the many nights Hawke has sobbed herself to sleep, her guilt over taking him to the Deep Roads too much to bear. There are nightmares too, dark, dark dreams that cause Hawke to scream, and oh, surely he could write to Hawke, just once, just to let her know he’s fine and well? And he thinks about it, ponders about the words to use as he stares into the fire, a heaviness in the pit of his stomach; and as the light breaks out over the horizon he thinks he’ll get to it -  _ tomorrow _ \- but tomorrow never comes-

 

_ Carver, the Grey Warden _ \- Kirkwall is ablaze, the qunari patrolling the streets. He knows his mission does not allow him to linger, to help, but his eyes search for her, panic fluttering in his chest -  _ she is all that’s left _ \- and it’s an overwhelming relief when he finds her, surrounded by her friends - but the relief passes and he feels as though he’s looking at a stranger. She is so hard now, the lines around her eyes and mouth carved from guilt and regret and bitterness, but er shoulders still curve in with the weight of the world on them. He cannot look at her when he denies her the help she asks of him - and it is cutting, far too cutting, when she accepts his answer with just a curt nod of her head before spinning around and heading back into the fray; he nearly follows, nearly chases after her, but Stroud’s hand on his arm holds a weight heavier than that of chains-

 

_ Carver, the Grey Warden _ \- He’s in Denerim when he hears the news of the rebellion in Kirkwall; how one of her companions caused the destruction of the Chantry, how she sided with, and defended the mages; listens to the templars in the city speak her name with vicious hate. She’d been forced to flee the city, the city that she gave her blood for, that she shed her tears for, the city she’d considered  _ home _ ; and now she is displaced, lost to the winds, her name no longer  _ Champion _ but instead  _ traitor, terrorist _ ; but all he can think of are blue eyes and the way her tears felt against his skin as she’d held him in the Deep Roads, all those years ago, how much love in her touch, and he knows-

 

It is his turn to hold her now.

**Author's Note:**

> I like Carver Hawke [not sure if it's an unpopular opinion or not?] I understand where he comes from, and why he feels the way he feels - it's not _nice_ , of course, but anyone who has ever had a sibling knows that sibling relationships are tumultuous and full of friction. Despite their arguments, Carver does care a great deal for Hawke, that much is clear.
> 
> I never know what the right path for him is - templar, or warden? - but in my headcanon, Carver is a templar. In his head, I'd imagine, it's a win-win situation - he gets to make a name for himself, while at the same time being in the heart of an organization that hunts down apostates like mage! Hawke. He can protect Hawke - which, really, is something he _wants_ to do. 
> 
> So, yeah. Have some Carver Hawke feels :)


End file.
